


Busted

by konacher7258



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eating, Gen, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Weight Gain, fat!Dean, obesity, temporary immobility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5944960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konacher7258/pseuds/konacher7258
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is supposed to be losing weight. Instead he eats so much that he can’t even move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Busted

Dean knows he’s supposed to be following the diet plan John left for him. He knows and yet he can’t stop eating and eating. He’s eating so much that he’s already put on weight since John’s been gone. Enough that even Sam noticed the gain. Before John left he was at 325 pounds, a number John considered disgustingly obese. If John comes home and weighs him again… If Dean weighs even more than that… 

Dean concentrates on inhaling a pizza to banish the thought from his mind. 

He’s halfway through the pizza before John opens the door. Dean hears the signal—John’s quick rap on the door—but there’s nothing he can do. He can’t hide the empty food packages piled on the couch beside him or cover the apron of belly fat that hangs out from his shirt. He’s too full to even haul himself off the couch, too stuffed to waddle into the bathroom where he can at least wipe his face.

The door opens and Dean looks up in horror as John walks in. He watches as shock and then utter disgust spreads over his father’s face.

“Dean!” he spits. His eyes are darting all around the room, taking in Dean’s body and the scene of gluttony surrounding him. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Dean stays quiet. His appearance speaks for itself.

“I tell you to lose weight while I’m gone and you somehow manage to get _fatter_. Get up, Dean. You’re getting on a scale right now and if you weigh an ounce over three hundred pounds your obese ass will be in a clinic by morning.”

Dean sighs in misery, knowing he has to do as John says. He plants his feet on the floor, spreads his legs, and tries to hoist himself up. His massive ass just barely raises off the couch before it plops down again. He puts one hand on the armrest and musters his strength to try again but this time he doesn’t budge. After a third try he’s forced to admit that he can’t get up. He’s pinned by the weight of his own gut. “I can’t,” he mumbles.

“What do you mean you can’t?” John growls.

“I ate too much. I can’t get up,” he moans.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, get off your lazy ass.” John grits out. He puts one arm under Dean’s armpit and fists the other in his shirt, then tries to hoist him up. Dean’s belly spills out as his shirt is pulled up but Dean stays planted firmly on the couch. 

“For chrissakes,” John roars. “You can stay right there until the clinic people come to remove you themselves.”

Dean nods, sinking back against the couch in defeat. John storms out of the motel, slamming the door behind him. Dean knows he’s going to the motel office to use the phone. Maybe the clinic won’t be so bad. There will be lots of other fat people and maybe they’ll expect him to stay in bed all day. Dean reaches for a box of cookies. He might as well finish them while he’s here.


End file.
